"Blake," leaning up against the bathroom door I roll my eyes, "CTF starts in 10 minutes and you need to get your ass out of the bathroom so I can fix my hair before we have to go."
I hear a puff of agitated air escape her most-likely-perfectly-glossed lips, but she thankfully pushes the door open anyway. "Whatever, Twin." Her blonde hair is French braided straight down her back, and as expected her makeup is runway-ready. Two streaks of eye-black are evenly drawn beneath her baby blue eyes. "It's not like this stupid game even matters." Groaning she tugs at the orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt some satyr practically forced her into this morning. "I'd say this color is so last year, but to be honest it's just never been in."
Smirking I duck into the Aphrodite cabin's bathroom: practically the largest part of our cabin. (Other than our closets.) After checking my waterproof mascara and making sure that one red spot on my chin is hidden, I pull the unruly waves of my dull brown hair up into a messy bun that is sure to fall out once the fighting begins. I'll deal that when it happens.
"Now who's taking forever?!" Blake whines from her bunk bed. "Our other sisters left like 10 minutes ago…"
"Yeah, they left while you were redoing your blush for the eighth time! Or was it the ninth?" I ask with mock sincerity, my brown eyes scanning the mirror for a flaw I can fix. Leaving the wall-sized reflection of myself I pull a pair of never-worn Puma sneakers from their box underneath my bed and lace them before my twin's death-glares can successfully kill me in my tracks. "Chill, we can go now." I roll my eyes behind her back (for about the hundredth time that hour) as she stalks out in front of me.